1: Dawn of Thunder
by Chaos Eternus
Summary: Rewrite: The destruction in orbit of the two Ha'tak's was witnessed, and that witness triggers a change.
1. Prologue

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

I do not own nor do I claim ownership of characters and / or concepts from Stargate SG-1 or Chocky.

This is a rewrite, Dawn of Thunder was about the 2nd major fic I started to write and you could tell.

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**Prologue**  
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He had a dream and that dream was of duty, of service. It was a strange dream, uncommon for a boy of not quite fifteen years of age; all his other dreams were far more typical for his age, of fighters, fast cars, spaceships, and of girls.

This one was quite distinct, this one he could never forget as so many others faded in this morning. This one created in him and purpose and with that purpose, his destiny was sealed. He would serve his country, he would join the Navy.

Join the Navy he did, and for some four years his career was stable but unspectacular. He rose slowly in the ranks, did his job well, but did nothing to obtain any particular attention, for better or for worse.

Then he made a mistake. To kill the time on a long flight he challenged the only other passenger to a game of chess, a game he won. It took four tries for his opponent to defeat him, and it was only after that that his companion identified himself.

He was Commodore Winters, new in his rank and looking for an assistant. Surprised at the offer from one of the rising stars of the Navy, then Lieutenant Commander Thompson accepted

Two days later, attending the funeral that had been his reason for being on the flight in the first place, he met the Williams's twins for the first time, daughters of the man they were there to bury.

Met them, and gave them his number in the unlikely event they would need his help in the future and thought no more of it. The number was used however, used often and soon he came to think of the two as the daughters he had never had.

Three years later, he me Murielle for the first time, it was the Winter of 1989 and now Admiral Winters was sending his son to an exclusive, invite's only school. It was his first meeting with Albertine and unknowing to him, his thought contact with an alien.

It was 1995 that he was introduced to Chocky, and 1995 in which everything changed, not just for him, but for a nation.

All because the Americans had opened Pandora's box.


	2. Chapter 1

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 1**  
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Glancing idly across the tower, Thompson shared a nod of anticipation and not a little glee with the twins opposite. It had been a hard road to here, first to confirm the story Chocky had told, an act which had taken every marker he had within the intelligence community but with confirmation his markers had been returned and with interest.

With confirmation, then came doubt. They had the knowledge, but little idea of what to do with it. Britain was a powerful nation but the days of being one of the most powerful nations in the world had ended on the battlefields of Europe .

The Second World War had been won, but it was the Americans, slow to enter the war but resolute when they did that had come off the strongest for it. If the Americans were having real difficulties keeping Earth safe with their far greater resources then what could they do?

Many argued that they should simply speak to the Americans quietly, offer their support, their troops, even some funding in exchange for access. After all, didn't they have the closest relationship of any two countries in the world? Didn't their militaries inter-train and indeed, trust each other more then any other?

It was a good plan, it was a safe plan. It had many supporters, but Thompson was not one of them. Britain was not the powerhouse it once was, he conceded, and any effort here would cost them far greater then it would the Americans, the budget would certainly be far harder to hide.

But success would mean not joining Stargate Command as a supporting partner but potentially as an equal. It would mean greater ability to not just request but to dictate terms when America learned of British involvement, and learn they would one way or another.

It was true Britain didn't have the resources America had but that was the rub. The Americans were concentrating on building warships using Earth-bound resources, whilst it appeared they had off world mines for two specific minerals they hadn't explored the resources of their own solar system.

Let America build warships for now, they didn't have the resources to have a major impact on that kind of construction directly. Instead, they should concentrate on resources, start mining the asteroid belt for what they would need.

Building a mining and processing plant in space would be massively expensive, the debt would likely be horrendous but the any excess could be sold and profit made there, particularly from some of the more exotic materials they were likely to find. Let American build warships, they would have to as well in time but for now, begin the process of expansion into the solar system, find and use the resources available. For now, begin the fortification of Earth's space and maybe, just maybe incorporate a shipyard into those fortifications.

The implications for security of having an off-world shipyard were astounding, not to mention, that whilst they had spaces they could hide construction of smaller craft in, finding a location on Earth where they could build space going warships and support them without being seriously noticed…

Well, Thompson noted, good luck finding a spot suitable for that.

There were still those who doubted, those who pushed to simply go to Americans and take whatever table scraps they would offer. But to right ears, Thompson's idea appealed on several levels.

They would take to the stars, and the Navy would lead the way.

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**RAF ST Athan, South Wales . **

A muted purr echoed across the base as a large night-black craft slipped slowly out of an old, slightly decrepit looking World War II hanger. Wings bending and warping under the heavy weight of the wing tip mounted engines, the vehicle slowly moved forwards, its thin, blocky body overshadowed by a massive under slung, the metallic shape of the load glittering and shimmering in the dawn sunlight as the tall, spindly undercarriage cleared the boundary of the runway.

Grimacing slightly, the Pilot, a dark haired officer with a distinctive scar running from his left eye to his ear glanced at the camera image of the runway displayed on his heads-up display. Nudging the control stick, he carefully and slowly lined the craft up with the runway, cursing the oversized undercarriage and the component below for blocking any direct view of the runway beneath.

He had driven _Galaxy's _ before whilst on exchange with the USAF and quite frankly, he wasn't sure which was _worse _ as far as not being able to see the runway was concerned.

Of course, the _Galaxy _ carried its loads internally. It didn't take a genius to figure out that flying in the atmosphere with an underslung load was going to be a total bitch. They had simulated this, but in truth, simulations never truly prepared you for the reality.

Oh, for the ability to hide the construction of something the size of a _Galaxy, _ or maybe even a _Super guppy, _it would have made things so much easier. Alas, even given the relatively small size of the craft they had created, security had very nearly failed.

Of course, the highly visible location they had chosen for the work with the civilians all around hadn't helped but it had been the least bad of several bad locations available.

Still, this was going to be dangerous. Dangerous enough that each flight actually carried a full combat bonus and didn't the fact that the brass had agreed to that just tell you everything you really needed to know?

Still, their secret was going to be out within minutes, if it wasn't already. Hopefully, he would be around to see the aftermath.

Finally satisfied, he tapped his radio "Airhead 1-4-niner requesting permission to launch."

The reply was clear and untainted by static or interference, just screaming of the money that was put into every aspect of the construction, of the highly expensive digital transceivers and high speed encryption/decryption chips, "Permission granted Airhead 1-4-9, be advised heavy traffic at Rhoose, vector immediately 150 degrees port to avoid traffic and join escort."

Pilot Officer Reynolds smiled slightly as the unknown voice at St Athan's control tower broke comm. Discipline, passing on an unofficial but heartfelt message, "Good luck with the beast, and may fair winds follow you on all your journeys"

"Copy That Control, rolling."

The purring rose to a powerful, muted roar as the large craft surged forward; its six engines pushing it rapidly down the runway. Accelerating in a manner that would make a bat out of hell proud, the dark vehicle lifted well clear of the end of the runway, and headed up, turning swiftly out of sight of Rhoose Airports busy international traffic lanes and towards the waiting escort of Tornado and Eurofighter Typhoon Jet Fighters.

_"Shit! Damn and blast" _ Reynolds cursed as the craft bobbled, wrestling with the controls he quickly dragged it back under his control again, cursing this craft with every breath he took. Maybe it was a technical fault, maybe a design flaw, maybe a result of the load slung underneath, whatever it was he didn't know, but this craft didn't want to stay under his control. It fought him, making him use every trick he had learned in his ten years as a pilot to keep it under his control. He would really have to pass a sarcastic word or too along once he got that thrice-damned piece in place.

"Err… _Airhead _ 1-4-niner" a voice drawled over his radio, "be advised we are hearing every curse you… sorry _word _ you say."

Reynolds looked around puzzled, then flushed, embarrassed as he noticed the radio was still active, still transmitting every word, every noise he made.

"Sorry" he muttered, flicking the radio back to ready, grimacing as the crafts control stick shuddered in his hand once more.

"Hey Reynolds" the voice made the pilot officer grimace with distaste, its every nuance screaming, I'm young, I'm a pilot and I am cocky, "you think we should pass your assessment on to engineering?"

"Smart-ass fighter pilots." Reynolds muttered as he fought with the controls once more. First climbing slowly as he headed north-west, crossing over Northern Island until well out into the ocean. At which point, he fought the craft into a long spiral, each turn bringing him closer to the edge of the atmosphere.

The jet stream brought another fight to the controls but above it, the thinner atmosphere meant an easier time of it as less air wrestled with the load, less energy to distort his control, his flight.

His escort had already dropped off by now, heading backwards towards the isles, first to top up, then to escort the next _Airhead _ into position. He didn't envy his Flight-Leader that task; he had the job of lifting the first of the _Shunters _ into orbit.

An unfamiliar craft, an underslung load that maxed out the lifting ability of the _Airheads _ and having to use an entire rack of Jato rockets in order to be able to clear the runway, oh yeah, he didn't envy him _at all._

Then again, he had two more component flights then he was scheduled for a _Shunter _ wasn't he?

Bugger.

Could be worse though, he could be on the list for one of the habitat modules for the construction crew but, strangely enough, those had been left off the list until the aircrews had some experience and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why. Honest injun and all that.

But, as far as the _Shunters _were concerned, well, if he survived, he could always speak to the other pilot and get some tips from him. But that was later; right now he had work to do.

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**StarGate Command (SGC), Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs **

O'Neill grimaced as Sergeant Harriman's voice filled the room in that far too familiar tone which had him rising from his desk and the hated reports before his mind even caught up with what his body was doing.

He placed a mental bet and was gratified at the figurative win as his team rapidly fell into place around him as he strode towards the control room. Of course, he was still beaten by the General, but hey, that was okay. He didn't have so far to walk did he… his office was right above the control room.

"Sir, NORAD just reported an unidentified contact leaving atmosphere"

"Goa'ulds?" he asked, just beating Hammond to it.

"NORAD doesn't think so, they say the flight profile suggests an Earth Construction, they're still trying to track an exact origin now but certainly within England ."

"What makes you say that, son" Hammond 's voice was calm as always but tinged with worry.

"Sir, every time we've seen an alien spacecraft they have tended to leave atmosphere vertical or very near vertical, this contact acted like an atmospheric craft on an altitude test," he shrugged, "we've been aware for some time the English have been cooking up a few new aircraft designs and from what I can tell, it was initially thought to be more evidence of this. By the time anyone realized it wasn't going to stop going up the craft had already left the atmosphere."

He considered this a moment, then considered it again. Whilst he had worked with the Brits and knew they could be downright sneaky sometimes, this was a bit of a stretch.

Still, it did lead to some interesting conclusions, starting with exactly whose intelligence agency had fucked up and missed this coming. Not to mention the distinct possible that at least one intelligence agency _hadn't _ fucked up.

"We may have a breech,"

He got a surprised, questioning glance from Hammond and he shrugged, "no effective space agency despite their business's getting shitloads of space contracts and suddenly they have craft leaving atmosphere without us or NASA catching word of it?"

Well, that neatly summed up his feelings on the matter and by the look on Hammonds face it wasn't something he hadn't thought of yet.

Strangely enough, he felt a trip abroad in his future.


	3. Chapter 2

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 2**  
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**Southern Wales, United Kingdom **

It was a small thing, the hangers were old, built in the Second World War, and whilst they had been refitted several times, one small section of wire had been missed repeatedly. Barely a meter long, in the normal run of things it would perhaps not have mattered. After all, despite their large size, these buildings were mostly empty space, meant to simply cover aircraft whilst engineers worked on them.

True, several of the hangers contained full workshops to allow the engineers to repair or even build some parts if necessary, but not this one.

Then, Admiral Thompson arrived, and with him came extra staff, tool and die sets, more offices and the hangers were turned swiftly into an assembly plant for perhaps the most classified aircraft construction project in British history.

For a time, perhaps longer then could be expected, the old section of wire held.

Until one day, it didn't.

* * *

Outwardly calm and confident the young Lieutenant Peters strode into the cluttered office, every surface, every wall covered with schematics, plans and classified blueprints, all the paraphernalia of a new force being founded, created from scratch.

An office that was very definitely a security nightmare, just 30 seconds with a camera and half the classified weapons projects in the UK would be blown. Still, that was why there was a guard on the door. 

Standing a respectful distance from the desk, her body at parade rest Peters addressed the commanding presence of the man hunched over a warship blueprint on the heavy polished oak desk.

"Sir, _Airhead _'s 9, 8 & 7 are now on route to Mars with hull segments, numbers 6 & 5 have lifted the _Shunter _'s to orbit and are on re-entry, _Airhead _3 is boosting with another hull section, 1 is delayed and 4 has been declared an engineering causality, the fire caused more damage than was initially anticipated."

"Damn!" Thompson cursed, shoving his chair backwards from the desk, the sun from the window to his right glinting off the four gold stars attached with military precision to his uniform "that's 2 down already! And we can't afford to replace any, not now, it's too soon."

"Admiral, I have started a new schedule to compensate, but the loss of two of our cargo birds will cause delays regardless of scheduling, Engineering is breaking up number 4 for spare parts now, but it's doubtful anything will be salvageable from 2 sir, she was at the centre of the fire and suffered accordingly."

"Replacements?"

With a grimace, she replied, "not practical at the moment sir. We're over budget as it is, and with construction having started on the station, all our resources have been diverted there. It would take at the very least three months and more likely five to crash build more airheads and the diversion of effort would only slow down the construction of _Thundersdawn _ and put us further over budget."

"Okay," grunting reluctant agreement, the Admiral ran his right hand through his hair in an unconscious gesture of frustration "get the updated schedule to me by 2100 hours please, good work Lieutenant."

Nodding, Peters turned and briskly left the room leaving the admiral to his thoughts and his work.

Inside the office, Thompson had turned to the window behind his desk overlooking the main hanger where about 20 of the best brains in the Queens Armed Forces had were being shown the new craft, by the children who had developed them.

'A 5 billion pound budget in the hands of some kids', he turned from the window, a tight, wry grin lighting his face for a moment before with a iggh, he reached once more for the paperwork on his desk.

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**SGC **

Hammond stepped through his office door into the briefing room, and almost stopped in sheer shock. All of SG-1 was there, on time, no waiting for Daniel to be dragged from a translation or Carter to be pulled from some new device or theory. He hid a small smile as his mind began to play "that's great it starts with an earthquake…."

Shaking his head slightly, he moved to his chair quickly and sat down.

"So…" O'Neill asked expectantly.

"NORAD says at least 7 of these unidentified craft have left RAF St Athan so far, 2 of which are now re-entering our atmosphere having left a pair of what appear to be tugs behind" Hammond paused, "the CIA are not happy, they had an agent on the base, but she turned up unconscious at the US embassy in London, with 'better luck next time' tattooed on her forehead."

O'Neill smirked at that, trading a grin with Carter, they could imagine at how impressed the CIA was with _that._

"The President got in contact with the British Prime Minister, who claimed ownership of the craft, and then told the President that they would share as much technology with us as we have with them, nothing, or damn near it."

"In somewhat politer terms I bet," O'Neill grumbled.

Nodding agreement, the General glanced around the room, "ideas people."

"Well, we definitely need to take a look," Carter stated, "first we need to determine how they managed to build spaceworthy craft… How far exactly are they taking these craft?"

"So far, they have made five return trips to Mars."

"In less then a day?" Daniel asked surprised.

Teal'c nodded agreement, "then they are likely not using rockets."

"That appears to be a given," Hammond replied.

"So either we have a breech…"

Carter nodded, finishing the Colonels sentence, "or they had outside assistance."

"I may just be playing devils advocate here," Daniel shrugged, "but isn't it possible that this is something they cooked up on their own."

"Not likely," O'Neill replied, "Carter?"

"Agreed," she shrugged, "but not impossible. I would have thought some indications would have shown up in the science papers I've been following but given how tight security has apparently been on this operation…"

"We need to know either way," Hammond sighed, "but have our own security to consider and we are talking about an allied nation."

"Plus we evidently _do _ have a breech," Daniel noted, "given the Prime Ministers comments to the President."

There was a slight pause as this was considered, then O'Neill spoke, "great… so do they know the details or just the general idea?"

"We don't know," the General replied, "CIA is scrambling as we speak but their operation in the UK is evidently compromised."

"I'm somewhat surprised we actually have a genuine operation in the UK ," Carter shrugged, "beyond the absolute basics and the embassies I mean."

Nodding reluctant agreement, Hammond took a long look around the briefing room table, making eye contact with each member of SG-1, StarGate command's premier team in turn before speaking; "I don't see that we have much of a choice. SG-1, you are going to Wales , recon RAF St Athan but don't do anything that might cause any kind of incident, understood?"

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**RAF St Athan**

Peters knocked once at the door then followed the knock swiftly into the room, "Sir, according to 'Murielle', SG-1 just boarded a plane to Cardiff-Wales International"

He looked up from the paperwork and raised a sardonic eyebrow "Cutting it a bit fine aren't they? I would have landed a bit farther away."

Peters grinned as she looked out of the corner window, a 747 descending to Cardiff-Wales clearly in view "Like outside of visual range, sir?" her voice and expression would have fooled a Angel into thinking she was an innocent, the admiral smiled, he wasn't fooled, he knew she occasionally displayed a mischievous streak a mile wide. " London perhaps?"

The admiral just shook his head amused, but continued seriously "This will have to be handled very carefully. Right now the Yanks could shut us down without too much trouble and if Kinsley and the NID have any say in the matter we will either become subservient to them or we will be shut down, by any means necessary"

Peters nodded, "They could just park a ship in orbit, shoot anything we try to launch into orbit, and laugh at us because we can't complain due to the secrecy of this project. Our only real answer would be to threaten the security of their project but they would have to be willing to bet we wouldn't want to have to deal with any of the fallout from Stargate Command being forced into the public domain."

"End result would still be the same, the Americans would retain control and _Thundersdawn _ will never get built." Thompson said, agreeing, "and taking control of alien technology out of the hands of a single nation is certainly a primary goal."

"Well, what is the plan then?"

"Simple really, they need to be kept of balance, reactive" Thompson shrugged, "So I will have to overwhelm them, dominate the situation and keep them from thinking too much."

Peters nodded, agreeing, "What do you need sir?"

"Get me a RA Corporals uniform and have a squad ready, let's start as soon as they arrive shall we? I think a reception might just be in order"


	4. Chapter 3

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 3**  
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**Cardiff-Wales ****International Airport **

Thompson shared a mischievous grin with the sergeant at this side, a look he was too disciplined to acknowledge beyond the amusement dancing in his eyes.

It wasn't often you got an assignment which could actually be classed as fun after all. Though, having the boss with you did put a dampener on exactly how fun it could be…

Then again, although the safeties were on, their rifles were loaded. That too put a bit of a dampener on the mood. But not much of one, they were soldiers after all.

The door finally opened and Thompson stifled a glare as the sergeant unceremoniously shoved through first. He would have to have a word with the twins; their threats of what would happen should he be injured had obviously been taken far too seriously.

Still, he couldn't blame the sergeant for that. Besides, he was wearing the markings of a corporal from intelligence and everyone knew that really meant an office weenie didn't they…

Stepping into the aircraft, he gave the hostess at the door a quick once over. The risk with this operation was of panic and the crew were the ones who would stifle it or control it. Her eyes had widened, but she had stepped back, and was trying to look reassuring towards the passengers.

Good, not likely to be a problem there then. Of course, he wasn't the one who would have to give the coverup to the press about this.

Now there was an idea… perhaps he should make the twins do it. Hah, petty revenge rules! Of course, that wouldn't work. They could be traced back to him and to the project, increasing the risk of a breech.

Best not, they were taking enough risks as it was. If only they had chosen _not _ to fly commercial….

"O'Neill, Carter, Jackson , and" he quirked an eyebrow, his eyes knowing " Murray , such a surprise to find you here" his voice indicated it was anything but a surprise "Would you be so kind as to come with us please?"

Truly O'Neill had an impressive glare… wasn't going to do him much good though. He had the bastards now…

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**SGC**

Hammond glanced up with an exasperated sigh from his reports as a knock came from the door, "Come In"

Steeping quickly through the door, Harriman snapped a lazy salute off before reporting,

"Sir, SG-1 has failed to check in, and we are receiving reports from Sky News that their plane into Cardiff was met by armed soldiers of the Royal Army."

"Their flight I presume,"

"We don't have confirmation yet, but there was only one flight into Cardiff from anywhere in the US today."

With a groan, Hammond leaned backwards in his seat, wishing for just a moment that had something stiff to hand, but no. Unfortunately he'd finished the last of the scotch yesterday and hadn't yet replaced the bottle.

Right now he could really do with it too…

In itself not confirmation of a breech, they could just have been watching the flights, but it was certainly suggestive. No matter, security was dealing with that possibility now and whilst in all honesty he did suspect there had been a breech, he also got the impression security wouldn't find anything conclusive.

An SF rushed in before Hammond could say anything, "Sir, A foot patrol just witnessed an armed soldier getting into a car and leaving the area, she appeared to have been watching the mountain entrance"

Hammond grimaced, just what he needed… "any ID?"

"Just that she appeared to be wearing an SAS uniform, and it appeared that she _wanted _ to be seen, sir."

Perfect. Such an elegant, though certainly arrogant way to send a message, it told them they were being watched, it told them the enemy… though perhaps he shouldn't think of them that away, knew who they were and where they were coming from.

It confirmed there had been a breech of some sort but it also told him the Brits didn't think he could do much about it.

"Well, now we know how they knew SG-1 were coming." Harriman muttered.

"Quite." Hammond replied, motioning them both out before reaching for the red phone.

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**RAF St. Athan**

O'Neill fidgeted, restless and annoyed. He had been escorted with his team to the very place he wanted to be, which he supposed he should be happy about, but he wasn't. It was supposed to be a simple observe and report back, getting picked up on arrival wasn't part of the deal.

Okay, so bonus, it was likely their lives were safe unlike when this happened off world, their _careers _ on the other hand…

He grimaced as the Corporal who had met them off the plane strode into the room, only now he was wearing a Corporals uniform, now he was wearing an Admirals Uniform with an impressive four stars on the shoulder. Admiral of the Fleet… he had thought that rank had been discontinued.

Apparently not though.

"Maybe I should transfer to the Royal Navy if promotions are that quick" he noted sarcastically.

The reply was even more sarcastic and O'Neill found himself starting to like the guy already "Nobody promotes that quick, I was in disguise hum? You have heard of disguises right?"

Not that there was much he could say in response to that… so perhaps he should settle for glaring stonily at him. Right, lets go with that.

The admiral sat down in his chair, and turned to face SG-1, offering them drinks, "So let me guess, you've seen the _Airheads _, and want to know what's going on, hum?"

"Well if the _Airheads _are the little dinky toy spaceships you seem to have, yeah. Ours are bigger though."

A tight grin flashed across the Admirals face and O'Neill groaned inwardly as he realised how a particularly dirty, i.e. English mind could take what he just said.

Bonus points for not making the obvious come back there though…

"Then we can start off with the lecture then hum?"

"Ah, we are aware of security…"

"Obviously not," came the tetchy reply "or we would not have known about the StarGate Project until you told us"

O'Neill glanced across at Carter surprised, he had imagined many things happening once they got into the UK but practically an admission of breeching security on the most classified project the Americans had?

That was not on his expectation list. Then again, neither was being given an armed escort of the plane.

"Not the lecture I was on about though, and this one you can consider to come from the very top, it's about treatment of allies…"

At which point the Admirals voice started to drone, and O'Neill shrugged inwardly, taking the opportunity to access the room. They might have left something of interest out after all…

Then he blinked, did a ball of light just float into the room through the wall then float back out again. He shot Carter and Teal'c looks, not help there, but Daniel, good old Danny boy was giving him a very significant look. He'd seen it to.

Interesting….

He heard the Admiral raise his voice, almost missing the man raise his glance to the sky in supplication as he too spotted the ball. Definitely seemed more familiar with it though…

"…The only reason you give Russia anything is because they have you over a barrel, we have been a loyal ally for years, first to send troops to help you against Al- Qaeda and Saddam, hell we even leant you our AWACS birds on 9/11, but we are expected to keep quiet, expected to send troops, and not have any control over our own men, or hear reports from them once they reach the SGC?"

O'Neill blinked and then blinked again. He was _definitely _ going to be having a word with security. If those idiots were letting exchange officers through, and boy was that the only thing he could think of that matched the Admirals description, then heads were going to roll, he would see to it personally.


	5. Chapter 4

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 4**  
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**Ground Control - RAF ST Athan**

"Control, this is _Airhead _1-4-9, we are RTB, ETA 14hours, the components are now in a stable Martian orbit." the voice of Pilot Officer Reynolds came blaring through Lieutenant Peters headset, degraded by static and distance, only truly understandable due to the frankly excessive encryption that was being used; an encryption which came with its own build in error checking to help stabilise the signal.

Still, they would have to see about improving the signal between Earth and Mars somehow.

"Roger that, be advised _Shunter's _ 1-5-1 and1-5-2 will pass by close approx. 3 hours and will be loaded."

"Roger that GC, I'll be home in twelve, get the kettle on will you?"

Rolling her eyes, Peters turned from the console, "Its confirmed sir, the first components are in place and more are on route, the Quarters for the construction crews are being loaded onto _Airheads _six and five now and the next two tugs are ready to be loaded once numbers one and three land."

Peters glanced at the schedule and nodded, seemingly pleased, "We should start to come online within a fortnight, sir."

"Good" Thompson smiled, mentally planning a commendation for his hard working Exec "have SG-1 sent to my office please."

"Yes, sir."

Turning swiftly, Thompson left the room, flicking his digital ID card through the reader by every set of doors he passed through to open them. Security was tight here, you couldn't go anywhere without ID or an escort, 'good thing too' Thompson thought, he really dreaded to think what chaos an unauthorised person in here would cause.

He arrived at his office to find SG-1 already waiting, quickly motioning the guards out of the room; he closed the door and thoughtfully moved around to his desk, laying his arms on the varnished mahogany.

"SG-1, you have several space going warships don't you" it was more statement than question, " _Prometheus, Iwo Jima _and _Independence _which is under construction?"

Sharing shocked looks, O'Neill and Carter mentally cursed; _they _ hadn't even been told what the third ship was to be called yet.

O'Neill replied, cautious and startled "yes"

"And Russia ? Russia has a _Prometheus _under construction which is…" Thompson smiled, knowingly, "Strangely delayed?"

This time O'Neill gave a suspicious "yes"

"Any Space docks or repair facilities?"

"No, but as the Prometheus class is fully atmospheric…" Carter began.

"And what happens when you receive damage that prevents you from re-entering an atmosphere?"

He sighed at the reluctant shrugs from the team, "either you have to do the repairs unassisted in space or you have a risk a landing anyway. A landing which could potentially drop a huge hunk of metal onto somebody's house… or perhaps into the middle of a city and given we're talking about a ship which contains munitions, potentially several nukes and naquadah, that would not be a good idea at all."

"You want a space station," O'Neill noted.

"We are building a Command type station in Mars orbit," Thompson shrugged, "by our definition a command type station contains all the facilities to 'command' an area of space from logistical support, personnel, armaments to ship construction and repair."

"Hammond attempted to procure funding for such a facility, but he failed." Teal'c intoned.

"We didn't fail, Right now we have begun lifting pre-constructed components for such a station into Martian orbit, before the day is out the construction crews and their habitat modules will be en-route to join these components in Mars orbit and with their arrival, assembly will start. Within a fortnight we expect the superstructure to be near completion and the internal fitting out will start. The end result will be an operational base which will include Space dock facilities capable of taking 4 _Prometheus_ class vessels at a time, as well as providing support for operational ships. The next stage will have already started at this point which will be and an asteroid mining operation to provide resources for these facilities"

SG-1 shot up in their seats, shocked, even Teal'c raising an impressed eyebrow at the scope of the plans and their speed. This was _not _what they were expecting. Thompson didn't fail to notice this.

"You were expecting construction of more warships perhaps?"

"Well yeah, we are at war, more warships are…"

"Useless. Colonel, without decent support behind them, a hundred or more ships might hold back the enemy for a time, but if the infrastructure, the repair facilities, the ability to supply them isn't there then their effectiveness will rapidly diminish. You see, while you and Russia have been building ships and reacting to the Goa'ulds, we have been planning. You are needed out there, but we intend to make damn sure you and your ships have the support they need, and it is much easier to build spaceships in orbit, away from prying eyes."

"How are you powering everything?" Carter asked, curious, the reply shocked her.

"Zero-point Energy Extraction" Thompson replied deadpan.

"Buts that's impossible, you can't…"

"Not impossible, merely difficult, requiring a lot of expensive materials, and the collector also has to be designed for the solar system it is set-up in, the collector shape we have been reliably informed, is different in every star system, which is were you come in." Thompson stopped there; they were intelligent; they would figure it out quickly enough.

"Naquadah Reactors." said Carter.

"Yes"

"Ah…" Jackson suddenly found himself the centre of attention, "reliably informed? By whom?"

Thompson just snorted, "It will be her decision to identify herself to you, not mine."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, whilst Carter and O'Neill glanced at each other, still trying to process all that had been rammed down their throats in the last few days.

Still trying to figure out who was assisting too, the ancients and the Nox wouldn't, none of the technology had Goa'uld hallmarks so unlikely to be them, the Tok'ra, the Jaffa or a few others they could mention. It had to be someone else, perhaps the as yet unseen Furlings?

Thompson just hid a smile, knowing that for the moment at least he was still in control and therefore more likely to get the Americans to accept the fact that, like it or not, they were now involved as well.

Of course, the balance of power would still favour the Americans; they simply had more money, more personnel, more experience and more clout they could throw at the problem.

But he would ensure his nation at least had a solid foot in the door.


	6. Chapter 5

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 5**

**Outer Solar System – 3 Months Later**

USS _Prometheus _ limped slowly into the sol system, her drives damaged, her weapons off-line and a corona of debris, hull fragments and bodies surrounding the heavily damaged vessel. Even her hull showed the markings of slap-dash, hurried repairs.

It was not hard to see she had been in a fight, harder still to see if she had actually 'won'.

Lights flickered across the ship then cut out entirely for a moment, the hyperspace portal behind the vessel blinking out of existence abruptly, almost catching the rear of the ship as it vanished.

With a grimace, Colonel Ronson leaned forward in his seat, the movement made awkward by the sling which held his right arm against his stomach, "try to raise base Lieutenant, let's see if we can't finally get some help out here

Nodding acknowledgement, the officer in question turned to his controls, "USS _Prometheus _ to Sierra-Golf-Charlie, come in SGC."

"_Prometheus _ to SGC, come in please SGC."

"No response, sir."

With a sigh, Ronson grimly nodded his acknowledgement, "Very well, keep on trying."

"_Prometheus _ to SGC, come in SGC."

"HMS _Thundersdawn _ to _Prometheus _, you're coming in pretty weak, signal strength two. Stargate Command has you logged as MIA, please advise."

He was up from his seat in a shot, glancing over the shoulder of the Lieutenant, double checking the readouts. The signal had been sent correctly… and it was encrypted. Nobody but Stargate Command should have been able to pick up the signal.

And HMS… that was a British designation, not American or Russian. Last he had heard, only those two had access to true spaceship building capabilities.

They hadn't really been gone that long, had they?

"HMS _Thundersdawn _, this is a restricted and _encrypted _ channel, please identify yourself." It wasn't a request.

The reply sounded mildly amused, but it momentarily stunned the Colonel, "Roger, this is Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second's Spacedock Facility Number 1, call-sign _Thundersdawn _ in Mars orbit, do you require authentication at this time?"

He glanced back down at the Comm. Readouts, hiding a smile as he noted the signal trace that was already being run; a signal trace which confirmed the stated point of origin. As for authentication, well, he doubted his were up to date. He certainly didn't have anything for authenticating with the Brits in his files, that he knew for definite.

Grimacing, and wondering to himself how the limeys had managed to pull that rabbit out of the hat, Ronson replied slightly acidly, "Negative, bounce my transmission to Sierra-Golf-Charlie please."

"Roger that, be advised you are still just signal strength two. Bouncing your transmission now."

With a reluctant sigh, he began to speak.

----------------------------------------  
**SGC**

Hammond looked up startled as feedback surged momentarily through the rooms speakers, announcing to all that a transmission was inbound "Sierra-Golf-Charlie, this is _Thundersdawn _; we have a bounce transmission from _Prometheus _ for you."

A smile lit his face for a moment, and then was rapidly replaced with a worried frown. _Prometheus _ had returned which was good. That it had taken several months to do so was not; certainly they had been out long ago that strict rationing would have to have been enforced and that would brings its own problems.

He allowed the cheers in the control room to wash over him, as happy as he was to hear from _Prometheus _ again, he knew in his gut it wasn't going to be quite that easy. At the very least, the ambush SG-14 had witnessed on P4X-239 would likely guarantee some casualties.

"Sierra-Golf-Charlie, This is _Prometheus _."

The cheers might have gotten louder but O'Neill had just clinched it for him with his quiet 'why a _bounce _ transmission?'

_Prometheus _ should have no need to bounce transmissions to them, not from within their own solar system anyways.

"This is _Prometheus, _ we are declaring an emergency."

That killed the cheers abruptly Hammond mused bitterly for a moment even as he reached for the radio.

----------------------------------------  
**HM Spacedock _Thundersdawn_**

The comm. Officer's hand smashed down on a protective glass covering to the right of his console, and then he jabbed at the red button within. Instantly alarms sounded through out the base, and the lights throughout the base dimmed as power was diverted to the few available weapons. Ignoring the slight thunder rumbling through the deck as the stations crew rushed to stations, he tapped the intercom on.

"GQ, all hands man General Quarters, this is not a drill, all crews to rescue stations, all crews to rescue stations, this is not a drill."

The airlock behind him cycled open, and extra crew came crashing through, racing to their GQ stations.

"Report!" Lieutenant Peters, now a Captain, and Officer in Command of _Thundersdawn _ barked as she strode through the airlock, throwing a uniform top over her head.

"Ma'am, USS _Prometheus _ is inbound, and she just declared an emergency."

"Captain has the bridge." she announced to the room at large as she tried in vain to tie her auburn hair up out of the way, disgusted she gave it up.

Turning quickly to the comm. Officer she asked "any idea of the nature of the emergency?"

"Coming through now."

"On speaker please."

"…Lost at least 20 crew, some compartments still not responding, someone could be in there, we just don't know. Most likely dead by now if they are, unless they had some rations in the compartment with them."

She reached over the comm. Officer and opened the channel,

"_Thundersdawn _ here, any sign of a tail?"

"Negative on that, not picking anything up, but sensors are compromised as hell, we could be within weapons range of a _Ha'tak _ and still not know it."

"Roger that" disgustedly, she closed the channel.

Great, that meant they would have to maintain battlestations for hours until she knew _Prometheus _hadn't been followed, which would tire her people out even more, slow down the construction and if any attack did come, well in truth they would be up the creek without a paddle. Unlike some i.e. the Americans, they didn't have advanced weapons systems. _Thundersdawn _ had to rely on her armour, her launchers for missiles which hadn't arrived yet and her pulse lasers which would be of no use against warships, only against fighters and missiles.

Shaking her head, she turned to the comm. Officer appraisingly. She had been looking for a competent Executive officer (Exec) after the last one failed medical; maybe she didn't have to look any further?

Her mind made, she said "Good work and right decision taking us straight to GQ, rescue stations. You're now Exec, now tell me what we have available."

"Ah, yes, ah" the comm. Officer was surprised but he quickly rallied "Tugs 1-5-5 and 1-5-1 are docked, all 1-4 series craft are down for bug-fixes, and replacement of the heat-resistant time, they won't be available for at least 48hours, all bar 1-4-6 are on earth anyway. Tugs two and four are inbound with Priority 1 supplies, ETA is only an hour, and 1-5-3 is immobile, providing power to the asteroid mining facility that's under construction."

Peters nodded, her eyes going distant as she mentally flickered through the available option, "As soon as they arrive, I want 1-5-2 and 1-5-4 unloaded and ready to go, get the crews into 1-5-5 and 1-5-1, and move them to a suitable rendezvous ASAP!"

"Captain, We still have one of the life support modules the initial construction crews used here, what about loading Med-evac equipment into it, and using it as a lifeboat, ma'am?"

Impressed with the suggestion and pleased with her new Exec, Peters quickly replied, "Do it!"


	7. Chapter 6

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 6**

**_Prometheus _****, Outer Sol System. **

With a grimace, Flying Officer Pauls caught sight of the _Prometheus _ for the first time and his initial reaction was to call her toast, a write-off. He buried that reaction, he knew from helping his father in his shipyard before he joined up that it took quite a lot to really force a ship to be scratched.

In reality, most ships that were scrapped didn't need to be, they were destroyed simple because their owners had gotten a bigger better replacement and that would certainly not apply in this case.

Neither would age and the associated rust for more obvious reasons.

Of course, this ship was battle damaged and that was a genuine reason for scrapping. He didn't think the Americans would be willing to accept that though.

Still… there was a lot of debris floating about but most of it appeared to be armour or external components. There didn't appear to be any through-hits so if there was any structural damage it was likely to be confined to the outer sections of the ship.

They wouldn't know for definite though until they got a proper look at her. He knew what his recommendation would be though; this was definitely a full dockyard job.

He glanced away from _Prometheus _for a moment as the voice of his wingman in tug five filled his ears, requesting docking instructions from the beast, his eyes quickly giving the other craft the once over.

Nothing visually wrong, which was good, given that it was humping a habitat module about to evacuate the injured from _Prometheus. _ The results of a problem there would be quite disastrous.

He would get to give the ship a through looking over with cameras running in a few moments, for now, he had to monitor the docking of the habitat module and the _Prometheus _.

----------------------------------------  
**SGC**

"Yes sir, a rescue team from _Thundersdawn _ has already arrived at the _Prometheus _."

"No sir, as yet we have not received a damage assessment, but we have been informed it's a dockyard job."

"Yes sir, we will confirm that."

"Yes sir, goodbye sir." Hammond sighed as he put the red phone down.

An unhappy president was not a good thing, especially when he had such good reason to be unhappy. The _Prometheus _was not repairable by any means available to the SGC simply because, as had been predicted would eventually happen, she was not capable of landing, let alone landing safely.

They could of course try calling in some markers with the Free Jaffa or the Asgard and try borrowing a ship capable of helping _Prometheus _to the surface but that would give the Free Jaffa a closer look at the ship then was perhaps wise at the moment and the Asgard, well they had no way of knowing if they would show up let alone when.

But _Thundersdawn _ not only had the capability, but effectively had _Prometheus _as well given that it was their support craft that were now on site. That could be considered 'stacking the deck'.

Worse _Prometheus _ had a lot of technologies no other vessel of her class did, especially not the one the Russians were trying to build and these technologies were now in British hands. They could either tell _Thundersdawn _ and her crew how to repair _Prometheus _, or could insist on the return of _Prometheus _, and wonder exactly how many technologies _Thundersdawn _ got a nice look at, either way, the SGC's advantage, gained through the blood, toil and tears of the SG teams had been compromised once more, and…

"Signal from _Thundersdawn _, 112 saved sir."

…They couldn't really complain about it. Well, Kinsley would try to, no one else would. At least, not too loudly.

Still, it was getting irritating. Perhaps the only brightside was that the technological edge still favoured the Americans. Their shields and the gauss rifles without which they would not be able to build effective warships or even defend their station effectively.

In some ways, the Brits might have them over a barrel, but the reverse was also very much true.

----------------------------------------  
**Ground Control RAF ST Athan **

"Admiral! Signal from _Thundersdawn _ sir!"

Thompson rose from the duty officer's desk and strode over to the cramped and messy comms desk, which showed evidence of many hurried refits and hasty repairs.

" _Thundersdawn _ to Ground Control, 1-5-5 reports an ETA of 5 hours for the first of the Prometheus survivors, and Medical assistance has been requested on arrival. _Shunters _ 1-5-1 and 1-5-2 have began towing operations, but that is going to be slow, ETA estimated at 2 days minimum. _Shunter _1-5-4 is standing by to assist. Captain Peters also requests status on the 1-4 series craft please."

The admiral smiled, he at least had anticipated this need, the 1-5 series tugs were not atmospheric capable, the 1-4 series, big and ungainly as they were, could re-enter safely, apart from the ever so minor issue of the heat-proof tiles coming off all the time.

"Let her know that I had 1-4-7 crash refitted with the new tiles, its passenger re-entry module too. Lift off in" he checked his watch "1 hour, all the other 1-4 craft will be significantly delayed though, don't expect them to start becoming available for another 72 hours."

Thompson quite rightly imagined Captain Peters wincing as she heard those words, Thundersdawn was already low on several critical supplies, which the emergency situation with the Prometheus had only made worse; this additional delay could be a problem. Those sodding tiles had grounded the only craft the royals had capable of exiting and re-entering Earths atmosphere, the only source of a number of very important supplies, air and water to name just two.


	8. Chapter 7

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

----------------------------------------  
**Chapter 7**

**Thundersdawn  
****_3 days later _**

Captain Peters and her Exec hurried from the bridge and headed towards the docking ports. Not one, but two category 'A' passengers were now arriving for a perfect simultaneous docking. One arriving from Colorado Springs , one from St Athan, both were more than capable of calculating the odds of simultaneous dockings occurring (when they weren't set-up) but she wouldn't want to place on bet on who would come to the answer first.

It was a bit more likely to be Albertine though, whilst Carter was a scientific prodigy, Albertines skills were always a bit more pure maths.

The Exec turned off down a separate corridor to meet Major Carter, the Captain hurried on, seeing her destination ahead, the airlocks already cycling, preparing to open.

Soon, the passengers started to come through, mostly transfers heading for the mining station project. Ignoring them, she waited nervously; one of the design team was here and not one she had met before, despite the fact that she was the leader of their scientific team at the moment.

Soon a young lady comes through the airlock, looking to be in her mid-twenties but with that pale shade of skin that only comes with staying out of the sun far too much. The Captain hurries forward, smiling as she pictured Carters face once she found out who their 'expert' was.

"Welcome aboard, I'm…"

"Captain Peters! A mutual friend told me all about you." her eyes momentarily glazed over then she snapped back to the present "He's showing off a load of his paintings at the moment, his Italian Exhibition he calls it, 55 paintings and he still hasn't visited."

Peters was amused, "Does he ever go somewhere he paints?"

"True."

The Exec arrived at the airlock just as Carter left it, a small group of SGC engineers and scientists following behind her. This wasn't a _Airhead _ or _Shunter _ dragging a transport module or even the ever delayed 1-6 series courier, this was an SGC shuttle, the only craft available to Stargate Command and the Royal Space Service specifically designed for passenger transport.

With a slight grimaced, he nodded welcome at the two American Marines as they stepped out of the shuttle and took up position either side of the airlock, preventing unauthorised entry. Unauthorised entry in this case meaning anyone involved with the RSS, until the politicians and diplomats finished their negotiations that was.

"Welcome to Her Majesty's SpaceDock 1, _Thundersdawn _"

"Thanks" Carter replied briskly, her outward expression blank but her eyes betraying her curiosity and perhaps even her orders as they flicked around the station, noting and assessing, "What's the status of the _Prometheus _?"

"Sealed in Dry-dock 2, gravity is off in that section, but we were able to pump atmosphere in. At the moment there don't appear to be any kind of contaminants leaking from _Prometheus _, but we are monitoring. Her reactor is cold, and all systems are shut down" he replied, shrugging "You should be able to work without full spacesuits, though you will be required to wear a basic skinsuit and an emergency air tank."

----------------------------------------  
**SGC**

Hammond was in a much better mood, whilst a large part of him didn't like the abrupt way in which control of the skies had been snatched by the British, he had to admire the sheer gall, brains and guts it took to directly challenge them in that way. To build a spacestation and support craft, to hide the creation of their parts and then to just choose their moment and go for it despite knowing that without the experience and technology available to the Americans, their stations, their ships would be far more vulnerable then they needed to be…

It was ballsy; it deserved a certain amount of admiration. It also dropped him right into trouble with his own brass for the breech of Stargate Command security that it represented and had happened on his watch.

Yet… if he was in their position he might have tried the same thing. Once they knew, they had two real options, the conservative option was one. That meant letting them know they knew and technically blackmailing America into allowing access in exchange for support. That was an option which he had little doubt the Joint Chiefs would have preferred and possibly even welcomed, the second option was the bold option.

This was the option they had chosen, to refuse to accept a somewhat subservient role, to hide their knowledge and build up a position of greater strength… in this case, quite literally. In time, America would certainly have had to build support craft and orbital stations but that March had been stolen by the Brits and with it, they had what they wanted. The ability to negotiate greater access, greater control then even the Russians had managed.

They could of course have gone for the third option, disclosure, but frankly, that option was insane and a simple assessment of the risks, costs and benefits was probably all it took to convince the bulk of those in the 'know' to shelve that option.

Of course, he had little doubt a certain amount of Nationalism was involved as well, they were talking about a nation that was once the greatest power in the world and the loss of that Empire had never entirely sat well with certain elements of the British population and that was only to be expected.

He didn't think he would be too happy if America dropped of her pedestal as the worlds foremost power either. Yet, the route they had chosen, to create the support structures and not the warships themselves, at least, not yet, told its own story.

It was an acknowledgement, a very powerful one that Britain knew they could not stand alone in this and that, for all they wanted a certain degree of control; they knew it would be America that would remain the most powerful of the star-faring nations. They couldn't match the available resources, the available money the Americans had.

And that they would simply have to be willing to support her to a degree.

So, whilst he didn't entirely _like _ what had happened, he did understand. He could also acknowledge the benefits this would represent for the American effort in space, which he knew was a large part of the point anyway.

The incident with _Prometheus _ in many ways just helped to illustrate the point. He had managed to convince his superiors of the inevitability of _Thundersdawn _and by extension the United Kingdom getting a good look at _Prometheus _ technologies, a task that had been made easier when it was agreed Carter could look at the Zero Point Generators.

That was a technology that Carter pretty much said she would believe when she saw it, for once with the complete agreement of the Tok'ra Anise who didn't made her disbelief in Earth's ability to develop such advanced technologies quite clear.

The Prometheus's survivors had arrived as well and most were out of the infirmary already, the others would not be far behind them and even better, Kinsey had cancelled an appointment with him. That alone was enough to make his day.

A knock sounded at his door "Enter."

"Sir, Carter is on the radio for you."

"Coming."

He moved quickly down to the control room and the radio.

"Carter, you're early, any problems?"

"Sir, I just got a look at the Zero Point Generators, and they are genuine sir, it will take me a while to understand all the maths behind them but they are genuine."

"That's good news Carter, our Naquadah use was getting a little high."

"I just met their expert sir, you are not going to believe this………."


	9. Chapter 8

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

----------------------------------------  
**Chapter 8**

**SGC **

Hammond grabbed the nearest chair and sat down in it heavily, rubbing his forehead. He could feel another headache coming on; luckily he was used to SG-1's reports by now and always came prepared. He reached into a pocket and withdrew 2 tablets; the duty airman just looked at him sympathetically, and passed his cup over. Hammond nodded his thanks, and swallowed the tablets, washing them down with the bitter coffee.

"Let me get this straight." Hammond said, keying the radio on again "Since 1984, way before we opened the StarGate, the British have had classified proof that at least one race of aliens existed AND has been sharing technologies with a group of kids. Advanced technology at that, the sort of stuff most of our 'allies' have refused to give us. Not only that, but they knew this alien was interacting with children from at least twenty different countries _including _ the US ."

"Yes sir" the voice over the radio could be described 2 ways, very meek, and sounding like they wished they had some triple strength headache tablets handy. Hammond rubbed his forehead again, he could certainly sympathise.

"Even worse, they could have had these technologies and been in space along time ago, but a NID type operation scuppered that," Hammond's mind started screaming about NID and Ammunition to use the next time they came an knocking, but then again, they probably wouldn't even care. It was an idea though…. "Not only that, but their visitor is generally seen as a glowing ball of light, with something of a superior attitude."

"Ah, yes sir."

"Ah… it gets better sir."

'Gets Better?' Hammond was, he had to admit, dreading this, how much worse could it get?

"Ah, well you remember those two motherships we blew up in orbit?"

By this time, whenever Carter spoke, the duty airman was wincing in sympathy, it looked to Hammond like a nervous twitch. He wondered if Doctor Frasier should be told…

"Well, their out of town friend was not fooled by the asteroids story sir."

Hammond shrugged that off unsurprised, any alien, or human for that matter was unlikely to be fooled by the cover story.

"Which is when they decided to approach the British government, or rather Admiral Thompson, then Vice-Admiral, whom they believed could be trusted"

This on the other hand required more thought, rather pained thought at that; "Are you saying the British have all those technologies, their craft and spacedock because of _us?" _

"Ah, yes sir"

Groaning, Hammond grabbed the airman's coffee again and reached into his pocket, he knew he had some more headache tablets in there somewhere…

"I'm going to need a full report from you Major by the end of the day," he finally replied before closing the channel. Now he just had to consider how he was going to report this to the joint chiefs…

Sometimes, this job was just far more of a headache then he deserved.

----------------------------------------  
**_Ground Control, RAF St Athans _**

"They don't believe us,"

Thompson shrugged, turning away from the control towers consoles to glance behind him, "I know, but what really can they do?"

"They're reporters," Joan replied tartly, "they'll do what they always do, dig and dig until they get an answer that counts as news and if they don't get one, they'll eventually just make one up."

"Perhaps," he shrugged, turning back to gaze through the windows, his eyes following the form of an _Airhead _ as it floated into a landing, a thin stream of smoke floating out the back of the starboard outermost engine, "some will try that certainly, most won't. The groundside missions we have some of the _Airheads _running will help provide a smokescreen and soon enough, most will forget and these craft will just end up being considered just a new addition to the armoury and not something worthy of an particular attention."

"What we should have done is create versions of the _Airheads _ for purely terrestrial use and with purely terrestrial technologies."

The Admiral shot a smile over his shoulder, nodding pleased surprise, "that is certainly an idea. We still have the 1-6 couriers coming up and that airframe design is certainly more suited to atmospheric flight. With a few adjustments…"

She considered this for a moment, "it won't be perfect; the drives we're using just don't look like normal jets if you get a straight-on view…"

"And the fakes will have to be good enough to justify the apparent numbers of them we'll be using."

"Budget," Joan grimaced, "I don't think the auditors will like it too much."

Thompson smiled as he watched the _Airhead _ roll to a stop, rapidly surrounded by fire engines, "but if they do a good enough job, potentially it will be a money earner."

"Given what the aircraft market is like at the moment, it will truly have to be something special. Perhaps we should get the institute team on it?"

He considered this a moment, then nodded, "speak to Albertine. I know aircraft isn't their normal area of expertise but they have already had to learn quite a bit for the _Airheads _ to be workable in atmosphere. If they start working on an atmospheric 1-6 at the same time as the full couriers, I would imagine it would only increase the capabilities of them in atmosphere."

"Perhaps," Joan snorted, "I just hope the naming committee makes their mind up shortly. Pretty much anything will be better then calling them series one design six craft all the time."

She got a laugh in response, "true. Just imagine what they will be like when we start building warships as well."

Sub-lieutenant Williams grinned wryly at that, "true enough. But in all honesty, I don't think we can progress there until the American Government accepts us and starts working with us. This suspicion…"

"Is a perfectly understandable reaction and one we knew was coming," Thompson shrugged, "nor can we do what the Americans did and go straight to a Cruiser. At this time, it looks as if our first warship design will be a frigate of destroyer."

Joan's eyebrows rose startled, "I hadn't heard that before. Will such a small ship be able to go one on one with the _Ha'taks? _"

Then she frowned, "no, they wouldn't would they… but as scouts, as support for larger ships, for fleets and escort duties and the like, a larger number of smaller cheaper warships would be necessary."

The Admiral snorted, relaxing a little as he watched the fire engines start to pull away from the damaged craft, "I think the most appropriate word in that was 'cheaper'. Certainly, there are a few persons who shall remain unnamed that have made their opinions on whether or not we should be considering the expense of building a warship at this time quite clear."

"It's either that or buy the _Prometheus _ design off the Americans and you know how much they are deliberately delaying the construction of that Russian ship!"

"Indeed," Thompson shrugged, "when you factor in development costs, buying a _Prometheus _ would probably be cheaper at first, but it would give America a greater degree of control over British warships then we would like."

"Isn't that what we are doing to them anyway, in attempting to basically seize control of ship construction and repair?"

"To a degree yes," he accepted, "but whilst we have a few tricks, the Americans still very much control the weapons technologies and for better or worse, that is a monopoly that should be broken. I… have my own reasons to distrust the Russians despite their apparent conversion to democracy but what is happening to them is what we are trying to avoid.

The Americans will have to let them have their warship eventually but until that happens; they still have absolute control over every Earth warship and weapons platform. That one nation should have that degree of control; that is dangerous. Akin to one nation having control over all nuclear weapons and we know what happened when that was true don't we."

"They got used," Joan replied and then shrugged, "I would not worry about their use against earth bound targets though unless the NID manages to seize control over Stargate Command."

"They have managed that at least once before," Thompson noted, "and Kinsey is very much in their pocket, if he does run for President which seems likely…"

"We have a few years yet for that," she sighed, "but is that truly our greatest worry? Kinsey has pulled some truly arrogant ploys before and we don't even know of halve the shit he is involved with."

"That is true," the Admiral replied, "but I already have a surveillance team being prepped to go to America . Hopefully they at least will be able to give us some warning of any moves he makes. Until then, we will just have to do what we always do. Work with what we know and try to plan for what we don't."

Joan nodded, then sighed, "maybe, but for now, I'm going to go get Albertine on the line."

"Give her my regards," Thompson noted as Joan walked swiftly away.


	10. Chapter 9

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

----------------------------------------  
**Chapter 9**

**_Thundersdawn_**

"Captain Peters!"

The fifteen-year-old genius strode confidently onto _Thundersdawn _'s command centre, followed closely by Carter. She had, by this time, managed to lose the shell-shocked and slightly amazed expression she had gained when she realised exactly how real the Zero Point Energy Extraction technology was and where it came from and was now hurriedly shifting through her notes, trying to organise them, ready to transmit to the SGC.

"Michael says he has done a nice painting of Thundersdawn with Mars in the background, he says you have first dibs if you want it."

The Captain turned, and talking to the entire bridge she said, her voice amused and slightly sarcastic "Geez, I don't know, do we really want a valuable painting in this midst of all this artistry and colour?" she gestured at the drab grey walls and the exposed pipes and cabling, "It might be overshadowed by the sheer luxury of this facility."

As her eyes uncrossed, the Genius Kalinda giggled, "Michael says it's a risk he is willing to take, anyway he's packing it now. He's also grousing about how security wouldn't allow him to sell it as sci-fi…"

Peters shot Albertines second a wry grin, "Tell him thanks from us anyway, I'm not going to complain about anything that helps brighten this place up at the moment."

At that, she turned and tapped the shoulder of a Warrant Officer at the rear of the room, "Major Carter will need a data and audio channel to…"

An excited shout interrupted Peters, " Conn ,- sensors, I'm picking up a hyperspace portal…. New Contact! It's not in the database, designating Master 1!"

Captain Peters cursed, "General Quarters, man Battlestations!"

A master designated contact, trouble. The master designation was reserved for hostile or potentially hostile contacts, mainly used by the submarine service; the convention had stuck here too.

" Conn , sensors, contact just appeared 2 light seconds from Earth, contact does _not _match known Goa'uld craft, but is definitely an advanced craft"

----------------------------------------  
**SGC**

"Morning campers" O'Neill was in a good mood, "any word from Carter?"

"No, sir" the duty airman replied, "she's due to report in within the next 5 minutes."

"Sweet."

The airman was listening carefully to the channels normally used by _Thundersdawn _and the SGC to contact each other. O'Neill was watching him carefully for any sign of as signal from Carter, so he was first to notice when the airman stiffened, then smashed his hand down on the alarm.

Jack jumped up and stepped towards the console "Airman, repo…"

The airman turned to answer his unfinished order in time to see a glowing outline of Colonel O'Neill fade from the room.

When O'Neill re-materialised aboard the Asgard vessel he was not surprised to find Thor there, what he did find surprising was the look of surprise and even mild worry on Thor's face.

"Thor! What's up?"

"Colonel O'Neill, I was not aware you had acquired Zero-point technologies."

"Neither was I" he replied acidly, "Carters getting our first look at them now."

"How can it be your first look at them? These are Earth built craft, are they not?"

O'Neill considered this for a moment, then with a grimace noted, "Long story, so why the visit?"

Thor told him and the Colonels good mood was swept away with it.

----------------------------------------  
**_Thundersdawn_**

Peters grabbed Carter and led her over to the sensor station, "This look familiar to you?"

"Asgard," Carter replied, once she had made sense of the readings from the station sensors "but I can't place the design. It could be a _Beliskner _ given the scale but the readings are not clear enough for me to be certain."

The captain nodded, they did not have sensor profiles for the Asgard yet, "How sure are you?"

"Asgard design definitely." Carter was sure about that.

"Stand down from GQ, set condition 2, sensors, lock that profile into the database."


	11. Chapter 10

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

----------------------------------------  
**Chapter 10**

**_Thundersdawn _**

Captain Peters sipped her tea slowly, as she carefully watched the Asgard ship through the small flat screen monitor built into the arm of her station. To say she was worried was to call the Arctic 'slightly chilly'. The impression she had from all the reports on the Asgard she had spent the last 5 hours skimming through was that, when the Asgard come to Earth, trouble either follows, or is waiting for the Asgard on arrival, an impression Carter hadn't tried too hard to refute.

Unfortunately they weren't ready for trouble. _Thundersdawn _ was the only operational station in the Sol system, and her weapons when compared to the Goa'uld's could best be classed as laughable. The several test firings they had performed had shown a considerable number of flaws in their pulse laser design. Replacements had been designed, but until the next financial year, there wasn't enough money to build them. Their missiles had nuclear tips, which had proven ineffective against normal Goa'uld shields before, let alone the upgraded shields of Anubis's vessels and whilst the missiles had been modified for use in space, they hadn't been fully tested yet.

The 1-4 and 1-5 series craft were unarmed though they were already planning to change that for latter marks, but for now they could easily pass muster as 'sitting ducks' to any serious opposition, hell _any _opposition. As for the 1-6 series craft had been delayed again, but they at least would have some weaponry when they became available in about 3 months. The _Lancer _Class Star fighters had also been delayed, they were just waiting on the redesigned pulse lasers. They had actually been ground tested already and apart from the weapons they were finished, ahead of schedule.

Captain Peters tossed her head back and mulled over that thought, ahead of schedule, not something you often hear in government work, she thought with a wry grin.

That left only the Asgard to provide any serious opposition if trouble chose then to come a-knocking, _Prometheus _ didn't even have a reactor at this point as it had been removed ready for replacement. Peters reviewed her stream of thought, and didn't like it, but maybe…

"Kalinda, report to command please!"

Trouble might be coming, or it might not be, but either way she intended to be ready, and she was sure the Royal Naval Academies top graduate, and a telepath whose IQ required a whole new scale could come up with something.

The captains thoughts were interrupted as the airlock at the back of the command deck thudded open, allowing Kalinda and Carter to enter the bridge, Peters listened to them for a few seconds then made the all too accurate deduction that they were so wrapped up in their discussion of some incredibly complex scientific theory that neither of them even realised they had arrived at command.

"Kalinda! Carter!"

Their heads snapped around, startled, their expressions quickly becoming sheepish as they realised where they were.

"Sorry" they said almost simultaneously.

Peters quashed the thought that Kalinda and Carter were related, but only because their records said otherwise. Those two acted so alike at times, except, Peters noted, when Soldier Carter came to visit. Kalinda had never entered military service, so did not have that aspect to her.

"Major, we could use your help on this one too" she added, trying to keep it informal for Kalinda who still wasn't used to military procedure, and was a bit young to join up anyway "Kalinda, thanks for coming so fast."

Curious, Carter and Kalinda approached Captain Peter's duty station.

"As you know, an Asgard vessel arrived some hours ago, unfortunately an allied vessel arriving in this system usually means trouble is coming, trouble we are not ready for. There are only two armed craft in this system, the Asgard vessel and us. The problem is our weapons; specifically our pulse lasers and missiles are _not _ up to scratch. We need to get them up to scratch, and fast. I'm not waiting until the next financial year for some weapons to defend this base with!" Peters thumping her hand on her desk punctuated her last word.

Carter nodded straight away, her military mind allowing her to quickly asses the danger of being on an under gunned space station, Kalinda took a few seconds longer, but by this time Peters and Carter had already moved to a large clear area, on the command deck, meant for a fighter control station when the Lancers eventually arrived, and were spreading schematics across the deck, she hurried to join them and they began bouncing ideas back and forth.

" _Prometheus? _"

Carter shrugged at Kalinda, "Completely offline and her reactor is in the process of being dismantled."

Peters frowned, "what about moving her to an outboard airlock and using the shore power linkages to power her weapons?"

"Moving the ship would be relatively easy with the tugs you have available," Carter noted, "it would place a strain on the ships power grid, its only designed to draw enough power for basic services through the umbilical's."

" _Thundersdawn's _ power grid is more robustly designed," Peters noted, "primarily because this station was always designed to be expanded upon should the need exist."

Kalinda nodded, "the power grid was primarily Albertines responsibility during the design process, she does have the most experience with the ZPE's after all, but I suspect the grid will handle the draw but that the energy needed to bring _Prometheus's _main weapon online would exceed the generating ability."

Carter sighed, "of course, the ZPE's generate a fixed and steady amount of power…"

"Unlike a naquadah generator which can be tweaked to temporarily provide more power then its normal rating," the younger of the two geniuses's replied, "not to mention, whilst largely functional, this station is still incomplete. We have about half the generators available as we will once _Thundersdawn _ is fully online. I'm not sure we will have the power to use the pulse lasers to their fullest."

At that, Carter grimaced, "which rules out powering _Prometheus _ and using her main guns."

"Most certainly," Kalinda noted, "I would suggest we need the power more for the station itself."

"Is there any chance of getting some naquadah generators up here swiftly?" Peters asked.

"There are several aboard _Prometheus, _ but again, they're only backups and could only power basic services."

"If we could persuade your government to authorise their release…" she mused.

"Then at least _Thundersdawn _ would be fully powered in the event of an attack," Carter nodded, "I'll speak to General Hammond but it might be a while before we get a response. I would be willing to at least ensure compatibility between the generators and the stations power grid until we get a response."

'Of course you are,' Peters noted inwardly, 'it would give her a closer look at the station and her capabilities.'

But in truth, if there was to be an attack then the extra power would be helpful and if all went to plan, Stargate Command and the Royal Space Service would be allied so, "agreed. The main issue remains though and that is dealing with enemy warships. We can give fighters a bloody nose but a warship?"

"How bad?" Carter asked.

"Very," she grimly replied, "the lasers should in theory chew the hell out of fighters, though frankly their power draw is higher then expected, they overheat sooner… but they simply don't have the power to be a threat to a warship. Fighters like the _Udajeet _ should not be a problem, _Al-kesh _ will require concentrated fire, anything larger and we have nothing to touch them."

Kalinda frowned, "the missiles…"

Peters shook her head, "nukes have already been tried against _Ha'taks _ and failed. If their shields are down then its worth trying, but with their shields up…"

"Its possible Thor is just her for a social visit to because he requires help again," Carter shrugged, "I think you may be being a bit paranoid."

"Its only paranoia if their _not _ out to get you," Kalinda cracked.

With a slight grin, Carter acknowledged the point, "true. If it is Thor in that ship then we'll know more the O'Neill reports in. By now, he's probably already been beamed aboard."

"And if it is to warn of an attack?" Peters asked.

"Then _Iwo Jima _will be recalled," she replied, "but without that confirmation, she will remain on mission."

Kalinda snorted, "That's assuming she will have time to get here."

"True," Carter noted, "but if you are right about why the Asgard is here, then we have little choice unless they stay and assist. Still, I will speak to Hammond about the generators."


	12. Chapter 11

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

----------------------------------------  
** Chapter 11**

**Thundersdawn **

Kalinda was attempting to walk down the corridor through all the debris of the hasty refit and the extra cabling that had been set up to boast the power of the Pulse lasers and to assist with the power transfer from the hastily installed Naquadah generators.

There hadn't been too much of an argument over those which actually surprised her, but then maybe it was a sign that the instinctive indignation and wariness from the Americans was starting to fade and be replaced with more careful thought.

Or it could just be that they considered the Brits the lesser of two evils when wondering exactly why the Asgard were doing in town.

In truth, whilst it appeared she was walking down the corridor, in reality, what she was mainly doing could best be described as exercising her vocabulary, swearing every time the debris almost made her fall. The young ensign who was accompanying her was taking notes; he hadn't even heard some of those before. She eventually made it to the end of the corridor, and poked her head into the electronics suite at the end of the corridor.

"Carter, the bypass cables are up and the circuit test checks out. We'll have to send a team to start clearing the corridors out though; this corridor alone must break at least 20 health and safety regs."

With a pleased smile, Carter looked up from her monitor, "the new software seems to be okay and the interface between the stations power grid and the Naquadah generators appears to be stable. Barring a full power test, I think we may be done."

Kalinda frowned, "A full power test would be a good idea, but I suggest we leave that until there has been some tidying up done,"

At that she shot the Ensign following her a significant look and he nodded resigned agreement before turning towards the comm. Panel beside the door.

"For the moment, I suggest we update the Captain," snorting, she continued, "They do so love to know what's going in inside their little domains don't they?"

Recognising a rhetorical question when she saw one, Carter just smiled and swiftly locked the computer before following the civilian out of the room. They arrived at the bridge in time to hear the comm. officer of the watch speak;

"Incoming transmission from Master 1, captain."

"Put it through."

"This is Captain Peters of Her Majesty's space station number 1, call-sign _Thundersdawn _, to whom do I have the honour of addressing?" she tried to keep her voice calm, and it mostly worked. This was after all the Royals first contact with an alien craft, sure the SGC had made first contact, and the Asgard were allied… well, technically allied with the Americans and no-one else but even so she couldn't entirely suppress her nerves.

"Captain Peters, this is Colonel O'Neill." She quirked an eyebrow, yep definitely there first contact, someone with his record could hardly be described as 100% human after all…

"Thor here says we have inbound, a pair of _Ha'tak _'s just registered on his sensors."

"How long?" Peters snapped out, her manner suddenly all business.

"15 minutes, they are coming in fast, must have acquired a faster engine from somewhere."

"GQ!" she snapped out, her head turning to the duty comm. Officers station.

"Will your friend fight?" Peters continued turning back to her microphone.

"I will try Captain Peters, but 2 upgraded _Ha'tak _s and their fighters will prove difficult to destroy," the little alien standing next to the Colonel gave what she could only assume was his equivalent of a shrug, "I was only here to check the progress of the new construction and deliver the last batch of gauss weapons. This is not a top of the line vessel either; as such assistance would be required."

Peters glanced at Kalinda and Carter, who nodded, speaking simultaneously,

"We're done." Kalinda said.

"Upgrades complete and online Captain" from Carter, "but not yet tested."

Nodding her understanding at the Colonels careful addition, she turned back towards the screen, "we have a problem."

"That I can see," Thor noted, "you do not appear to have any real weapons systems, certainly none capable of being a threat to the _Ha'taks. _I find myself quite surprised at this given how clear my thoughts on the matter have been in the past."

Peters eyes narrowed slightly as she caught the wince from O'Neill and she found herself suddenly curious. Did the Asgard know of the situation with the Russian _Prometheus? _ Had they already stated that they did not approve?

"The fault is not entirely that of Stargate Command," she admitted, "I'm afraid the American squandered a lot of trust and respect with how that project has been handled and when we discovered what was going on, we started this project without their assistance or knowledge."

"I see," he considered this a moment then continued "If we had time the weapons I had brought destined for the _Independence _ I would install aboard your _Thundersdawn _ but given the limited warning I am afraid that would not be possible."

"Then I see only one option," she replied, not bothering to hide her pleased grin at the thought of her station being re-equipped with osme real weapons, "Send the fighters our way, our pulse lasers are more than a match for them and fire rapidly enough to really sweep clear, but the big boys are beyond us."

This the diminutive alien appeared to accept "I will try to do as you suggest."

The channel closed, but Peters was already barking orders out "Comms, send general alert signal 'cave', tell all the 1-4's, 1-5's, and the construction crews over at the mining facility to go quiet, shut down all non-essentials and make like a hole in the water! Weapons, set pulse lasers and targeting computers to rapid fire mode, assume hostile fighters inbound, comms, begin dumping our logs to ground control, and get me ship-wide!"

"Ship-wide up, Captain!"

"All hands, this is the Captain, we have hostile craft, a pair of souped-up _Ha'tak _s inbound and we expect to engage within 15 minutes. This is not a drill people! An Asgard vessel will be fighting with us, but they will be outmatched if we don't do our part. Hopefully we will be able to distract all the enemy fighters long enough to give them a chance, but if that doesn't work we will be next. Good luck and God bless."

"Weapons! Lock the Asgard vessel into the targeting computer and label it as a friendly"

She sat back at her command console with a sigh, "Now, we wait."


	13. Chapter 12

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

----------------------------------------  
**Chapter 12_  
_**----------------------------------------  
**Ha'tak**

In the grand scheme of things he was not an important Goa'uld, he had never reached system lord status, acting only as a servant of Apothis before he was killed. With the death of Apothis he had gained a, he snorted sardonically, _loyal _ following of Jaffa and his two ships and began planning for revenge on those who brought his master down. In this he was unique, most Goa'uld have little, if any loyalty to those they call master, but not this Goa'uld. His master was his power, the source of what little he had. It was taking time but he was slowly rising in the ranks, gaining more power, more trust.

One day, he would destroy Apothis himself and assume his mantle. That day was likely another hundred or more years away… then Apothis had died. No, not died, been killed by these Tau'ri, with it went his power.

Admittedly, he had escaped the turmoil and ransacking that engulfed his master's old holdings with two warships and all the Jaffa needed to crew them but that just made him extra vulnerable.

It meant he had enough power to draw the wary and contemptuous attention of the other Goa'ulds but not enough to have any hope of resisting them, of even remotely being considered an equal instead of simply a bug to be squashed.

No, he had to make the Tau'ri pay and in such a way as to make the other Goa'ulds grateful and welcoming. Merely wary of attacking him would be a bonus but to do that, he truly had to be bold.

He had no option other then to roll the dice.

His chance had finally come when he had discovered an abandoned mothership on the edge of what little space he controlled, it was damaged, mostly beyond repair, but its cargo, a trio of advanced Hyper drives were intact. Two went into his _Ha'tak _'s; the third was being built into a new mothership he was constructing using parts from the ancient wreck. With these new drives he felt he could catch Earth totally by surprise, before any of their allies could intervene, and then leave.

"My Lord, we have arrived."

He resisted the urge to kill the Jaffa for the implied insult, like he could not see that himself! He did have eyes after all.

"My Lord" a dark skinned Jaffa said, his voice strangled with suppressed laughter, "We are picking up a number of unarmed craft; they are ballistic and powered down. They think they can hide from us!"

He snorted with contempt, unarmed they were no threat; he would deal with them later.

"My lord, the Tau'ri have built themselves a spacedock!"

He perked up, a spacedock, such facilities were always heavily defended with the best weapons and ships available, it might actually be a threat. He was interrupted in his thoughts by the Jaffa bursting into outright laughter, he glared at the Jaffa, such conduct was unbecoming the servant of a God such as he, but the Goa'uld noted, considering the crew of mutinous dogs, dregs and banished Jaffa he had as a crew, hardly surprising.

"My Lord" the Jaffa added, not bothering to even say My Lord with respect, "the spaceyard, it has no heavy weaponry, nothing that could challenge us!"

That was unlikely, unlikely enough to make him rise from his throne and take a look at the sensor readings himself. But for all it was unlikely, it did in fact appear to be true.

"These Tau'ri defeated the great Apothis!" he said, disbelief echoing through his voice, then his eyes caught another icon on the screen and his breathe caught.

The Jaffa spoke again, this time all laughter and disrespect was gone from his voice, "My Lord, we have a sensor contact you should see!"

He glared at the Jaffa as he turned from the sensor display, mentally cursing. The only good part about it was that the Asgard vessel appeared to be far weaker then most, a valuable prize if it could be captured but frankly, he wasn't sure the risk was worth it given his minimal strength.

Not after what happened to the last Goa'uld who actually managed the unusual feat of capturing one of _their _ ships. Perhaps it would be best to keep things simple.

"Order the fighters to engage that facility, we will engage the Asgard!"

"Yes, My Lord"

Within minutes swarms of _Udajeet _ fighters left the _Ha'tak _'s, and moved with deadly grace towards _Thundersdawn _, the _Ha'taks _ moving aggressively towards Earth, and the waiting Asgard vessel.


	14. Chapter 13

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 13_  
_**----------------------------------------  
**_Thundersdawn_**

"Is it just me or did that Goa'uld just do exactly what we wanted them to?"

"It's not you, Captain." Carter replied with a smile at the wry, disbelieving tone in Peter's voice.

"Hmm," she shook her head then triggered the station wide speakers, "All hear this! All hear this! We have bogies inbound, ETA 2 minutes, we are now running weapons free."

It took just one second for the bridge to fill with sounds of final preparations for combat;

"Diagnostics confirm, all weapons batteries green"

"All airtight doors are sealed, Captain."

"The Asgard vessel has engaged both _Ha'tak's _!"

"Weapon's locked! Contacts will enter long range in 5 seconds!"

"Captain, engineering confirms all generators on line."

"Bogies in Long range!"

"Commence Firing!" Peters shouted. The response was instantaneous.

_Thundersdawn _ began shuddering lightly as volleys of laser light left the jury-rigged Pulse Laser cannons. Most missed, at that range it was inevitable, but the Jaffa in their fighters came on relentless, despite the stabbing bursts of energy seeking to atomise their craft, despite the occasional blaze of light as a direct hit was scored.

"Medium Range ! Re-setting Lasers!"

The lasers stopped for a second then restarted anew, the closer range meaning less energy was lost before reaching the Gliders and so _Thundersdawns _ cannons could fire faster and with greater accuracy. It showed. More gliders were destroyed every second, every meter closer they got. It wasn't enough, the Jaffa were too many…

"Short range!"

The pulse cannons reset again, at this short range they were able to fire almost continuously, but then so could the Goa'uld.

_Thundersdawn _rumbled almost continuously as the Gliders fired repeatedly into her armoured hull. Half of the gliders were gone now, but those that were left we causing significant damage. One enterprising glider pilot had found a blind spot in the pulse laser coverage and had stopped dead in space firing at the same piece of armour again, and again, and again. It gave. Peters was thrown of her seat as Thundersdawn gave an almighty groan and shifted in space, blown backwards by the force of air venting from her hull.

"Hull breach! Corridor 34E and Hold 1 are open to vacuum."

The glider pilot grinned; satisfied by the damage he had caused, and moved to a new section. _Thundersdawn _had yet to stop her uncontrolled movements however, and the Jaffa got a temporary reprieve as the targeting computers failed to lock onto their targets, thrown off by the wild movements of the station as one of the largest compartment in _Thundersdawn _, Hold 1, vented its atmosphere and more into space.

_Thundersdawn _ shuddered again, and with a bang of escaping energy the environmental control console behind Peters exploded, the body of the operator smashing into Peters, forcing her to the ground. She crawled out from underneath the man, and checked his pulse. Nothing, she cursed and got back to her feet, she had a station to look after.

"Jesus!"

The softly spoken moan from the damage control console grabbed Peters attention.

"Report!"

"A Glider just hit the interconnects between Dry-docks 3 and 4, Captain, dry-dock 4… it's gone, it's broken off totally."

The Captain stood stunned for a moment, under normal circumstances there could be upwards of a hundred and fifty people in each dry-dock. The numbers were lower as the station and the accommodations hadn't yet been completed plus under combat conditions the bulk of the crew would have been moved to the main body of the station, but there were still likely to be about thirty people in the dock.

And as yet, no escape pods.

_Thundersdawn _ shuddered again bringing her to her senses once more.

"Control, get working on those thrusters, we need control back of that stations movement," the stationed groaned and she bit back a curse, "we need to stop this venting now."

"Venting is about done Captain, we should regain control momentarily."

"Sensors just picked up a big explosion captain, someone just died but sensors are too damaged to tell who. Long-range are totally washed out, short-range are struggling with the energy wash from that explosion."

"That had better be one of the _Ha'tak's _." Peters muttered quietly to herself. Not that it really mattered, if it was the Asgard that blew, they would be dead soon enough and if it was the Goa'uld then there was still one target to deal with and they could still end up dead.

Beyond sucking away the fighters, there wasn't much they could do to affect that fight.

Static filled the bridge as the overloaded intercom burst into life;

"Engineering to command, we just lost pulse laser batteries 4 and 9, they're slagged, total loss, the power distribution grid is heating up a lot faster then expected, we need to shut down the rest now!"

"We still have about 20 gliders out there; we can't afford to stop firing, you'll just have to keep those lasers going a little longer" Peters shouted back through the microphone.

"No guarantees captain!" The intercom clicked off.

"Captain, signal from the Asgard, Scratch one, must have been that explosion tactical couldn't identify."

"Captain! The gliders!"

Peters turned to the sensor officer, surprised by the jubilation in his voice.

"They're leaving!"

"Why?" the question was out before she could suppress it.

"Looks like a retreat Captain, as far as sensors can tell they are not regrouping."

Peters nodded, relieved.

"Cease firing!"

The station rumbled again, "we've just taken a hit! Corridor 12 section 1 exposed to vacuum."

Shooting Carter a sick look at that she rose from her seat, diving towards the main station status readout covering the half the rear of the bridge.

"Problem?" Carter asked quietly, following her.

"The lasers for that section have been delayed," Peters replied darkly, "if they blow that section we lose dry-docks one and three."

" _Prometheus _is in number two dock at least."

"I know," came the response, "it's the same evil-minded bastard who blew four off I would bet."

"New contacts inbound, profile suggests _Udajeet _ fighters!"

"Bring the pulse lasers back online," Peters ordered quietly, "and ready missiles for launch. Let's see if we can't catch a bunch of them with a nuke."

"Incoming transmission… it's the Yanks! 1st Starfighter Wing."

"Typical Americans!" Peters shot a relieved look at the Colonel, "always late to the party, sic the tardy bastards on our unwelcome guest."

"Aye Captain,"

"And start running a systems check, I want a quick rundown on status within fifteen minutes," she turned to Carter, "its going to be along day."


	15. Chapter 14

**1: Dawn of Thunder  
by chaos_eternus**

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**Chapter 14_  
_**----------------------------------------  
**Approaching _Thundersdawn_**

The Asgard vessel slowly approached Thundersdawn, its transporters sparkled all around the ship as battle debris was shifted into a safe orbit that would cause it to enter the fiery heat of the sun, but some debris was collected by the Asgard and stored on their ship to be treated with far more dignity.

Those were the inevitable remains of any major battle, the bodies, far too many bodies.

O'Neill and Thor gazed upon the remains of the once proud space station and were silent. They had both seen battle damage before, that wasn't what silenced them, what silenced them was the volume of determined repairs being carried out, crew in spacesuits were crawling over the hull fixing the myriad hull breaches, rebuilding antenna arrays and retrieving were possible the supplies blown out from the number 1 hold.

Already the winking lights of tugs were slowly dropping into view as the other Royal craft in the system raced to assist the battered station.

"_Thundersdawn _ to Asgard vessel, do you require assistance."

Captain Peters face appeared on the main viewing, the command centre behind her showing evidence of at least one fire, and several consoles were dark, dead, but Peters expression revealed her weariness but also her pride and her defiance, refusing to be defeated by the damage the Jaffa had caused them.

"No Captain Peters, repairs are proceeding as expected, do you require any assistance?"

This she considered for a moment, then "Our long range comms are down; could you please bounce a transmission for us please?"

"Of course."

----------------------------------------  
**Ground Control, St Athan**

"Sir, we're picking up a transmission, it appears to be a bounce from _Thundersdawn. _"

A sigh of relief filled the room, as, for the first time in hours, many of the personnel started to relax. The Admiral looked up from his desk, his face showing the strain of waiting, but a tired smile just managed to show on his face, _Thundersdawn _had survived, at least for the moment.

That was a good place to start.

"Well? The transmission?"

"Sorry Admiral, it's a recall notice, sent all the _Airheads _ and _Shunters. _"

"Try and contact Thundersdawn, and get a damage and casualties estimate as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir."

----------------------------------------  
**Ground Control, St Athan**

"Latest CasRep, sir."

The admiral signed, and rubbed his forehead. He was quite aware that casualties were inevitable in any battle, but it didn't make it any easier. Ultimately he was responsible for every death, doubly so because he had hand-selected every member of Thundersdawn's large crew.

"What's the latest?" he asked quietly.

"105 KIA, 185 WIA and 45 MIS, Admiral"

Thompson winced, MIS, Missing In Space, about the worst fate imaginable. Probably dead, but if they were in suits then for the moment they may still be alive.

Give it another twelve hours or so, and then their air would start to run out. If they were found before then, well, all the studies they had regarding the possibility of a MIS suggested psychological trauma beyond what any other form of 'missing' would produce.

Those highly trained cream of the crop servicemen and woman who suffered such a fate would likely never work again.

"The Asgard vessel has picked up a number of bodies, no exact numbers yet, but most of the MIS are probably there, Admiral" the ensign added quietly.

"At least their families will have something to bury" he mused as the Ensign left, small comfort to those left behind, but still….

Of course, if the bodies showed some sign of _how _they died then security meant that for now, the bodies couldn't be returned, taking away even that small grace.

He signed again, and returned to the report he was writing, once more wondering why he had chosen this future, this command.

----------------------------------------  
**Thundersdawn **

With the Asgard vessel actively assisting, all the minor repairs to Thundersdawn were finished in days, leaving a largely operational but exhausted space station. Number 1 hold was still exposed to vacuum, a number of Pulse Lasers were so much slag and Dry-dock 4 had burned up in the Martian atmosphere, a number of crew rescued by Asgard transporters mere seconds before it broke up.

Thor had left, promising to return with the weapons promised originally to _Independence _but not the shields. The ones brought out of storage for _Independence _ simply would not cover _Thundersdawn _ and larger would be required.

Peters had little doubt the Americans were fuming over that, but in truth, they were Asgard technology even if that race did consider the designs to be obsolete and as such, it was they who controlled their disposition.

O'Neill managed to gain a few kudos points however when he simply grumbled about the lengthy delay it would cause to _Independence _ becoming operational whilst they learnt how to replicate the shields and weapons using human technology. Nor did he in anyway blame them, at least not in her hearing.

Carter had left too, returning to the SGC, Kalinda had proven determined to stay and she was now Chocky's semi-official representative on _Thundersdawn _.

The station was wounded, but alive, and holding it's breath. This was just the first battle, they had shown their mettle now, and more challenges would come. Peters found herself looking forward to it.

**Continued in 2: Thunder Rising **


End file.
